


Sick Day- MULDER

by EmScully



Series: Sick Days [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Early in Canon, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Tension, Tumblr Prompt, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 15:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmScully/pseuds/EmScully
Summary: Mulder is sick and Scully cares for him. Set early in the series.





	Sick Day- MULDER

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr anon prompt about Mulder or Scully being sick and the other one taking care of them. ESTABLISHED MRS. This one is pre-MSR, part two will be established. I thought it would be fun to write the changes in their relationship over the years in a similar situation.

Scully sat in Mulder’s chair staring up at the cheap ceiling. She rolled her eyes and sighed. It was almost 10am and Mulder wasn’t in yet. They had officially missed their 9 o’clock with Skinner which he was more than happy to chew Scully out about. _Damnit Mulder._ She was getting more irritated as time slugged on. She tried his cell phone again and it rang six times and then went to voicemail. She refused to leave another message and slammed the phone down in the cradle. She jumped when the office door slammed open, “Mulder!” He looked up at her, his hair disheveled, tie undone and jacket hanging over his shoulders. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve. Scully grimaced.

           “Hey, sorry,” Mulder coughed, his voice nasal-y and congested. He made his way towards his desk as Scully vacated his seat, never taking her eyes off of him.

           “Jesus, Mulder. You look horrible,” she reached out to touch his forehead and he jerked back. She withdrew her hand, embarrassed. “You looked fine on Friday, did you feel bad?”

           Mulder slumped in his chair and leaned his head on the desk, “it just sort of hit me,” he snorted then coughed.

           “You should go home,” Scully stood on her side of his desk, watching the back of his head cradled in his arms.

           “No, I just got here. We have work to do.” He sat up and looked at his partner’s unconvinced face. Even sick, he could appreciate her blue suit. He loved when she wore that suit.

           “We already missed our meeting with Skinner, he’s pretty irritated, so I don’t think we will be hearing from him for awhile. Mulder? Mulder, are you listening to me?” She waved her hand in front of his bloodshot eyes.

           “What?” He had been thinking of Scully not in his favorite blue suit. He felt his nose drip and he wiped it again with his sleeve.

           “Go home!”

           “You’re mean when you play doctor.”

“I’m not _playing_ doctor, Mulder. I _am_ a doctor. But I don’t have to be a doctor to know that you’re sick, really sick. You probably have a fever and are more than likely contagious. It is in everybody’s best interest if you go home.”

           “Still mean.”

           She ignored him, “drink lots of fluids, maybe have some soup. Keep an eye on that temperature, make sure it doesn’t go up,” she held the door open as Mulder shuffled towards it.

           “I don’t have a thermometer.”

           “Of course you don’t,” she huffed.

           “Or soup.”

           She narrowed her eyes, propped the door open with her foot and crossed her arms. “You know, you can just ask.”

           He feigned innocence, “ask what, Agent Scully?”

           “I’ll stop by tonight, okay?” Mulder mumbled his thanks and shuffled out of the office towards the elevator. Scully let the door close and leaned against it. She had been to Mulder’s apartment before, mostly to go over a case but she never lingered or overstayed her welcome, though she was certain Mulder would welcome her for much, much longer. Her chest constricted. _Stop it! Stop it, Dana._ She had to get over those feelings, the schoolgirl like crush she had on her partner was completely inappropriate. She was suddenly regretting her offer to bring him a thermometer and soup.

Three hours later, Scully found herself filling a shopping basket with essentials she thought Mulder would need. She looked down at the full basket. Maybe she had gone a little overboard. But Mulder looked really bad, he could be sick for a while.  

Mulder pushed himself out of the nest he had made on his couch of pillow and blankets, ignoring the pile of used tissues that fell off of his lap and on to the floor as he shuffled to the door. He swung it open and smiled at his partner, even sick; he was excited to see her. She was in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair in a ponytail, fresh faced and makeup free. She looked adorable. He snapped out of his trance when she grunted and pushed passed him, dumping her load of shopping bags he had not noticed, on to the coffee table. Mulder locked the door and stood behind Scully and watched as she unpacked. “Damn Scully. I’m not dying,” he mused as he picked up a hot water bottle and some cough syrup.

“I know that,” she felt her cheeks flush, “but it’s better to be safe than sorry” she unwrapped a glass thermometer and shoved it into his hand. “Under your tongue, five minutes.’”

Mulder stuck the thermometer in his mouth and slumped onto the couch and pulled a blanket over his lap, “oh! I love those!” He pulled the thermometer out of his mouth and reached for a bag of raspberry cough drops.

Scully snatched them from his reach, “Mulder!”

“Sorry,” he pushed the thermometer back in his mouth, then instantly took it back out again, “isn’t there another place you can take your temperature?”

Scully raised an eyebrow at him, “you can do that yourself,” she feigned disgust but smirked when she turned her back to him. She threw a new box of Kleenex at him and dug through her bags, putting a sleeve of Oreos to the side.

“Dose fer me?” Mulder asked around the thermometer in his mouth.

“No, those are mine. I may share though, if you’re good.” She pulled the thermometer from his mouth.

“I can be very good, Dr. Scully,” he grinned then coughed into his sleeve.

“Mulder, use the Kleenex, your temperature is 101.2, your whole house is probably contaminated,” she pulled out a can of Lysol and looked around the messy and dark living room. _Not enough Lysol in the world._

“What else ya got?” Mulder craned his neck to see as he ripped into the tissue, taking a wad in his hand and blowing his nose, loudly.

“Soup. Tomato, chicken noodle, hearty beef and vegetable medley, which do you want?” She staked the cans on the table.

Mulder grimaced, “I would much rather have some oreos,” he playfully reached out of them again but Scully was quick and shoved them away.

“Soup first,” she put her hands on her hips and watched him, waiting for him to make up his mind.

“Hearty beef,” he gave in.

“Okay, drink this, while I make the soup” she handed him a liter sized bottle of water then headed to the kitchen, “oh, I rented a movie, pop it in!” She called over her shoulder.

Mulder slugged down half of the bottle of water and dug through the plastic bags. More soup, water, crackers, cough drops, vick’s vapor rub (his eyebrows went up) Tylenol, _damn woman._ He chuckled to himself then pulled put the blue blockbuster box, holding it close to his bloodshot eyes to read the title. “Beetlejuice!! Scully!” He called out, “I’m impressed!”

“Shit! I forgot orange juice!” Scully called from the kitchen.

Mulder pushed the tape into the VCR, “there is some in the fridge!”

He heard her pushing old food and empty pickle jars around the refrigerator. “Mulder! This expired 3 months ago!” She chunked it into the overflowing garbage can.  

Mulder shrugged and made his way back to the couch as the opening credits started rolling, “Scully it’s starting, want me to pause it?”

She poked her head around the corner, “I have seen it dozens of times, its okay,” she smiled at him and disappeared back into the kitchen then reappeared with a bowl of steaming soup and two mugs of tea on a tray Mulder didn’t even know he had. When she put the tray down in front of him, he realized sheepishly that it was actually an old cookie sheet.

She smiled, knowingly at him and worked on opening the Tylenol bottle, her thumbnail popping the foil and she tipped out two pills and handed them to him, “take those before you eat.” She sat back on the other end of the couch, kicked off her sneakers and pulled her legs under her, holding her mug of tea and she watched him intently.

He swallowed the pills with a swallow of water then took his soup and sat back, his eyes shifting from the movie to Scully who was still staring at him. He took a big bite and swallowed painfully, “hot,” he took another spoonful and swallowed. Satisfied, Scully focused her attention to the movie. Mulder finished his soup and pulled a blanket up to his chest and coughed. Scully eyed him. He coughed again.

“Soup didn’t help?”

He shook his head, coughed again, and rubbed his palm into his breastbone, “chest hurts.”

Scully sat up and put her tea on the table and dug out the Vicks and tossed it to him, not making eye contact, “try that.”

 _Shit._ He held the little container in his hand, his mind racing. Then he pulled off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor. Scully shifted and tried to keep her eyes on the television screen. Mulder messed around with the film over the tub and tossed it to her, “I can’t get it open,” he made a scene of sighing dramatically then coughed again. Scully peeled the plastic off easily and held it out to him. “Scully?” He looked at her, trying to give her the most pathetic look he could muster.

“What?” She looked at him, then down to his bare chest, his sweatpants tight across his lower hips; she swallowed when she noticed a few course hairs sticking up from the waistband below his navel. Her eyes shot back up at his face and she felt her face grow warm.

Mulder smiled, “will you?” Her eyes went wide and her heart thudded, she nodded. In a flash Mulder was lying on his back, his head and shoulders in Scully’s lap. She held her hands up in surprise. “Right here,” he rubbed his chest between his pectorals.

Scully nodded and dipped her fingers into the menthol goop and slowly smeared it over the hairs of his chest, she watched at Mulder’s eyes closed under her touch and she bit her lip, rubbing more deeply, feeling the bone beneath his skin. She moved her hand lower, past his sternum then back up, lingering close to one of his nipples that was suddenly taut. She licked her lips and ran her hand down again, grazing his bellybutton. A smile tugged at the corner of Mulder’s lips, but Scully wasn’t watching his face. She was studying his bare chest and abdomen; her breath coming in short rasps. Unconsciously, Scully ran her fingers lightly over the thicker hair poking from under his pants and she felt her core grow hot. Mulder coughed, a real cough and Scully jumped, snatching her hand away as Mulder sat up in a coughing fit while shoving a blanket over his lap. “Sorry,” Scully mumbled and turned away from him, pulling her knees to her chest and watched as a sandworm tortured the Deets family.

Mulder caught his breath and watched the color grow in Scully’s cheeks. He smiled, “hey, Scully?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t take her eyes away from the screen.

“Think I can have an oreo now?” He asked innocently.

Scully laughed and threw the Oreos at him, her eyes locking onto his, “yeah, I think you deserve one or two.”

“You do too,” he ripped on the package and handed her one as he scooted over, pressing his shoulder into hers. She leaned into his bare shoulder, warm with fever and nibbled at the cookie. “Better be careful, I could be contagious,” he looked down at her with a wink.

Without look up, Scully smiled, “guess you would have to take care of me.” Mulder smiled and popped a cookie into his mouth. He was betting on it.


End file.
